


The Best Laid Plans

by semperama



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - Pinto [15]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-12-01 08:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11482995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperama/pseuds/semperama
Summary: Zach had been dreaming of this night for a long time—the first time he would get Chris in his bed—and this isn’t exactly how he planned for it to go.





	The Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the rare word prompt "welmesh: of a pale or sickly color."

“Oh God.”

At first, Zach doesn’t recognize the exclamation for what it is. He hums and mouths at the base of Chris’s cock, licking, sucking, getting lost in the taste and smell and feel of him, oblivious to anything else. Oblivious, that is, until Chris twists his fingers in his hair and yanks—hard.

“Oww, Jesus,” Zach hisses, but before he can even shoot a glare Chris’s way, Chris is leaping off the bed and running for the bathroom, almost colliding with the doorjamb as he turns the corner and goes for the toilet. Zach is still reeling when he hears the sounds of coughing and retching. It’s the low moan of agony that follows that brings him back to himself and has him rushing into the bathroom himself.

“No, go away,” Chris says, waving one hand blindly behind him. He has the other forearm braced on the back of the toilet seat, his head practically down in the bowl, his back heaving with labored breaths. There is a fine sheen of sweat on the back of his neck. Zach ignores his dismissal to reach out and place his fingers there, on that clammy patch of skin.

“You didn’t even drink that much,” he says, because he isn’t sure what else to say. All the other possibilities would come out too tender, too raw too telling.

“Must’ve been something I ate,” Chris groans. He breaks off to be sick again, and the sound of it makes Zach straighten up and press the back of his hand to his own mouth, his stomach rolling in sympathy. As if he senses Zach’s discomfort, Chris flails in his direction again. “Please,” he says. “Go. Don’t…don’t…”

It’s not an ideal situation. Zach had been dreaming of this night for a long time—the first time he would get Chris in his bed—and this isn’t exactly how he planned for it to go. He got his first eyeful of Chris’s naked body just minutes ago, and now he’s curled up sweaty and pale on the cold tile floor, an eyeful that Zach doesn’t want anymore, not because he isn’t still attractive but because this is suddenly so intimate. Arms that looked so powerful moments ago are shaking, clinging weakly to the toilet bowl. Long, lean-muscled legs are curled under him in a manner almost childlike. He looks so vulnerable, and it makes Zach’s heart twist.

“Fuck,” he rasps, and turns to leave the room. But he’s back a moment later, a blanket and a pillow in his arms.

“Shit.” Chris spits, then spits again. “Zach, don’t. Go away.”

But Zach ignores him and coaxes him into lifting first one knee then the other so he can shimmy the pillow underneath. He wraps the blanket around Chris’s hunched shoulders, and then leaves his arm there, rubbing across his shoulder blade, riding out another bout of heaving that ripples through Chris like a wave.

“Oh God,” Chris moans when he’s done, resting his forehead on the back of his own hand. “The one fucking time I wish you’d just be a dick.”

Zach reaches past him and flushes. There’s sweat gleaming on Chris’s temple, and he wants to place his lips there, but he settles for smoothing Chris’s damp hair back and then cupping his hand around the back of his neck, massaging gently. “What, you think I won’t still want you after this?”

Chris laughs weakly, then winces like it hurts him. “Puking isn’t really first date material." He pauses, his shoulders rocking, but nothing comes out this time. When he settles, he adds, "It’s not date material period.” 

While he understands the sentiment, Zach wishes Chris wouldn’t worry. He strokes his fingers over the knobs of Chris’s spine and then pulls the blanket up a little higher to keep him warm.

“Look at it this way,” he says. “After this, you’ll never be able to chase me away.”

Chris doesn’t lift his head, but Zach can see the corner of his mouth curl just a little. The smile is chased away a moment later by more retching, but when Zach looks back on this night, he knows he won’t remember the unforgiving tile that makes his knees ache for days afterward or the unsavory things he sees or hears. He’ll remember that smile, and he’ll be glad he didn’t leave.


End file.
